Telamonian Ajax, covered in gore and eyes rolling back in his head,
swung the double-headed axe
and smote the placid cow in the midst of munching grass,
opening a trench in its throat from which poured
a fountain of blood like black wine.
He stood in the spray, turned his face up to Selene,
and loosed a howl like that of a ravening wolf,
startling the rest of the beasts in the field.
The Greeks stood round, watching, and not a one of them,
brave as they were, dared approach him.
Dragging the axe behind him, Ajax chased the fleeing herd,
running now as a man, and now on three of his four feet.
“How did it come to this?” Agamemnon shook his head,
and started walking back to camp.
